Psycho
by DadsBud11
Summary: This is a short fic I was inspired to write while listening to my music. It is based on the song Psycho by 12 Stones. Rated T for mentions of drug use/abuse and violence.


Psycho

AN:

This is just a random inspiration I had while listening to my music. Not sure how this will go, but if you like it, please review and I'll try to do some more. Maybe even tell me the name of a song you want me to check out.

Disclaimer:

Bethesda owns Fallout: 3 and all other material other than the song. I don't own the song either, it is owned by an amazing band called 12 Stones. Also, I do not approve of the use of drugs except in medical cases. I am not a drug addict, and the only reason I know about this drug is from playing too much Fallout: 3

* * *

The Lone Wanderer stood at the entrance to Vault 101, the place he had called his home for as long as he could remember.

As he made his way down the rocky hill, he stepped down and heard the sound of glass breaking. As he glanced down at hit foot to make sure it hadn't been injured, he saw what he had stepped on.

Picking the object up, he could see that it was an old, broken glass syringe that had made the crunching sound.

It appeared as if the small medical needle was taped to a small round vial, connected by thin surgical tubing.

Curious, he flipped the container over to see where it had broken. A large piece of glass had been broken free, and the contents of the syringe were dripping to the dry dust beneath his feet.

Sticking his finger closer to the dripping blue substance, he had the sudden urge to taste the strange concoction.

As he bent his finger to try to get some of the blue substance before it all drained out, he slit a sizeable gash in his skin, and then accidently dripped the mysterious medicine into the cut.

As his vision blurred, and he became hypnotized, he started losing all control, and could feel it in his soul.

He was finally able to see the other side, and he realized he had one last chance to step across the line.

As he crossed the line, the forbidden line, he embraced this new found power, and decided he would live his life like he never die, joining the other before him, and leaving all the others behind him.

The last thing he remembered before he passed out was glancing down at the label wrapped around the wonderful new substance.

Psycho.

* * *

As the Lone Wanderer woke up, he had a slight headache, and the light that filtered in through the cracked window panes hurt his sensitive eyes.

Window panes?

His eyes flew open, and he quickly remembered about how sensitive his eyes were.

The second time around, he opened them slowly, taking in his surroundings.

To his right, there was a door, probably leading to the Capital Wastes. To his left was an open door frame, leading into another room. Directly ahead of him were a few shelves cluttered with various materials. Next to the shelves was… a mirror!

He hopped out of bed, and almost face planted into the carpeted ground.

As he looked in the mirror, he noticed that his Vault 101 jumpsuit was missing, replaced by a dusty cowboys hat and an off-white shirt tucked into faded blue suspenders.

What he noticed shortly later scared him. His eyes.

Instead of his normal blue eyes surrounded by white, he saw something far worse.

His eyes were bloodshot and red, veins clearly visible as they traced a line to his black eyes. Black? He was born with blue.

As he watched, the redness slowly receded, and the black slowly evaporated, leaving the blue he knew he had been born with in its place.

A door knob jiggled and the door started to open.

Looking around for a weapon with which to defend himself with, he saw a .44 Magnum on the bedside table.

Grabbing the dangerous weapon, he checked to see that it was loaded with one bullet.

One was all he needed.

The door opened slowly, and in stepped a woman.

Surprised at the sight of the Lone Wanderer up and pointing a loaded weapon at her, she hesitated.

Slowly she stepped in.

"Hello, my name is Silver, I found you in the wastes and brought you back…" She never got to finish her sentence.

BANG!

The gun echoed in the small house, alarmingly loud.

As the Lone Wanderer opened his eyes, he saw the package that Silver had been carrying spilled out on the floor, and the front door hung open, Silver running for her life.

He was about to leave the house when he noticed something in the package she had dropped.

As he picked up the small vial taped to a syringe, he instantly knew what it was.

But just to confirm what he already knew, he turned the drug over in his hands.

Psycho.

* * *

Months later, the Lone Wanderer roamed the wastes, bringing his own kind of justice to the lawless bandits that roamed the dusty plains.

He had just used his last bullet to finish off a group of three Super Mutants, and he needed ammo bad.

But just as he was about to enter an abandoned Super-Duper Mart, a group or ten raiders attacked him.

He dashed inside, and shoved a small wooden beam into the door handles.

The banging on the outside told him that he didn't have long enough to look for ammo.

As he glanced around for a weapon, he noticed a small, sturdy pipe.

Next to the pipe were the small drugs that he had come to love. Grabbing two, he injected them, first in the left arm, then in the right.

He smiled as the feeling of euphoria passed over him, and started grinning as he hefted the pipe, feeling the drug coursing through his soul.

He glanced to his right and saw a small mirror that was broken slightly. He could see the drug work its way through his eyes, turning his blue to black, and making his white streak with red.

His head turned sharply as the front door broke open, and an evil grin split his face as his vision started to turn red, and the drug fueled his rage.

With an unearthly roar, he charged into the group, and started bashing heads.

Mere minutes later, he left the store, throwing away the pipe as he left.

As Lone Wanderer walked off into the sunset, the last raider alive heard him mumble,

"I love Psycho!"

* * *

So, how was it? This short fic was inspired by the song Psycho by 12 Stones. The song and the band both are really good, and deserve a listen.

See ya, DadsBud out.


End file.
